Office dress-code dilemma spurs roadside clothing rental business

Dar es Salaam. On a typical morning or even afternoon outside several government offices, a crowd gathers, waiting for services. But not everyone is allowed in.

Visitors wearing casual clothes are stopped at the entrance, unable to access the services they need. For many, this could mean turning back or losing precious time.

However, that is where a quiet but growing business has stepped in: roadside rental services for formal attire, allowing citizens to comply with dress codes and continue with their errands almost immediately.

For instance, near offices of the Ministry of Home Affairs and the main national immigration offices, operators stand at the edge of the street, signaling potential customers with gestures.

A person turned away from an office only needs to notice a wave or a beckoning hand to find a solution just steps away.

Normally, men can rent a shirt or trousers for Sh3,000 each, or a full set for Sh5,000. Women can rent a baibui (Muslim women dress) for Sh3,000, while a complete outfit including skirt, blouse, headscarf, and shoes goes for Sh5,000.

Customers remove their casual clothing, slip into the rented attire, and enter the office to complete their business. Once finished, the rental clothes are returned and the original garments reclaimed.

For many, the service is more than just practical, it is a lifesaver.

Mary Peter, 34, a government employee, described her first experience using the service.

“I had an appointment I could not miss. I was wearing casual clothes, and I was turned away. A man on the roadside signaled me to come and rent a shirt and trousers. Within minutes I was back at the office, dressed properly, and able to complete my work. It saved me a lot of time and stress,” she said.

Joachim Juma, 29, a small business owner, echoed her praise. “It is practical and straightforward,” he said. “I don’t need to exchange phone numbers or make appointments. I just rent what I need, finish my business, and return the clothes. It’s a quick, hassle-free solution.”

Yet, not everyone sees the arrangement as risk-free. Amina Said, 31, expressed concerns about hygiene.

“Wearing clothes that others have used may be convenient, but it can also be risky,” she said. “If they are not properly cleaned, it could lead to skin problems.”

A dermatologist at Bugando Medical Centre in Mwanza, Dr Salma Nyambo, agreed. “Shared clothing can transmit fungal infections or other skin conditions if not disinfected properly,” she said.

She added: “While the service is useful, users should be cautious and operators should maintain strict hygiene standards.”

Sociologists have also weighed in, pointing to a need for public education, lecturer at the Saint Augustine University of Tanzania (SAUT), Ms Linah Kabula shared that citizens should be well-informed and educated about what attire is required in government offices.

“When people know what is expected, they can prepare in advance and avoid unnecessary stops at rental services. It also reduces potential health risks and makes the whole process smoother for both citizens and operators,” he said.

Along the roadside, at various points just a few steps from the offices, the operators wait patiently, sometimes near small shops, stationeries, or roadside chips stands, ready to guide anyone in need of formal clothing.

Jamal Hassan leans on a wooden crate, squinting at the crowd outside the Ministry of Home Affairs, small office in Dar es Salaam: “You see them?” he says, nodding toward a man turned away at the gate. “They hesitate for a second, then they spot us. A shirt, some trousers, and they’re back inside. No calls, no complications. That’s the beauty of it.”

A few meters down, Fatma Mohamed folds a skirt with care, her eyes following a young woman hesitating near the office. “Some people are embarrassed,” she says softly. “But when they come over, we help quickly. Minutes later, they’re smiling, back at their appointments. I like seeing that relief on their faces—it makes the work worthwhile.”

Near the immigration main offices in Dar es Salaam, Salma Yusuf gestures fluidly with her hand toward a small group waiting outside. “It’s just a signal,” she says, laughing lightly. “A little wave, and they know where to come. They rent what they need, sort out their business, and return it. Everyone leaves happy.”

Ahmed Ramadhani, stacking neatly folded baibuis, adds, “It’s simple, honest work. People get what they need, we earn a living, and no one has to worry about extra arrangements. It’s satisfying to know we make life a little easier for them.”